The Sundown Saga: 1 - Sundown
by jackaloperuns
Summary: Beaufort Swan is certain that Edward Cullen is a vampire, in fact he would stake his life on it. Though the prospect of immortality becomes slightly less enamouring when his realisation coincides with the kidnapping of seven students, beginning the tale of a far darker secret harboured within the town of Forks.


**Title: **The Sundown Saga: Sundown [Book One]

**Summary: **Beaufort Swan is certain that Edward Cullen is a vampire, in fact he would stake his life on it. Though the prospect of immortality becomes slightly less enamouring when his realisation coincides with the kidnapping of seven students, beginning the tale of a far darker secret harboured within the town of Forks.

**Timeline: **The Twilight Saga: Twilight [Book One]

**A/N: **If you are reading this, thank you for making it this far! I have recently found a reignited love for Twilight and still cannot believe that it has been over a decade since the release of the novels and the first movie instalment. However, I _have not _read "Life and Death," and Sundown is not meant to be an alternative or a rewrite — I am simply running with the idea of a male/male relationship and have fallen in love with the name Beaufort. Also, the chapters may sometimes be a little lengthy, but I promise it will be worth it for the ride.

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**Chapter One**

"When One Door Closes"

Joining the slow forming line by the entrance to the cafeteria reminded Beau of kindergarten. He had walked single file from his third period chemistry lesson with the rest of his class, across the outer campus and listened to Mike attempting to fill every empty moment with idle small talk — people cope in different ways, he thought.

Today had marked the fourth day of new policies that had been marketed as a way to keep the students of Forks high school safer and more secure; following the disappearances of seven students. Travelling from one class to another in groups, establishing meeting points at the start of the school day and each third period class walking to the cafeteria together at lunch had been just a few of them.

Each of the missing students, including Angela and Erik, had last been seen on Friday and not heard from since — it was Thursday. Monday morning had seen an influx of panicked telephone calls to the police department, followed by a string of interviews with students — Beau had sat uncomfortably in front of officer Parrish for twenty minutes on Monday, reciting his whereabouts over the weekend and the last time he had spoken with Angela.

As Beau fidgeted in line, he gripped the left strap of his nylon backpack, hooked over one shoulder so as to avoid marking himself with some kind of _nerdy _stereotype — it had been a subconscious fashion choice adopted on his first day, in an attempt to remain as invisible as humanly possible. He hadn't wanted to give anyone any ammunition against the new kid, even if that did boil down to wearing his backpack with both straps — though now it had become a comfort mechanism, something for his idle hands to occupy themselves with so he never had to stand awkwardly with his arms at his sides.

Three months had passed since and not even he, self-proclaimed pessimist and adversary of sleepy Washington towns, could have suspected that a series of abductions was in the cards. A miraculous weekend heatwave or a torrential storm, sure, but not this. He had vowed to Mike to divulge whatever information he could learn from Charlie, but his father hadn't been home since Sunday — the chief of police was in high demand when children were missing.

"—and it just doesn't make sense, why would Erik have gone to Seattle?" Beau managed to break from his reverie, occupied with his own theories, in time to catch the end of Mike's rambling. The beginning of the week had seen Forks police tracking down the vehicles of each of the students, all of whom drove — Erik's Sedan had been found abandoned on the roadside of route 101, halfway to Seattle. It was a question that Mike kept circling back to, and Beau did think that there was something to it — the chances that Erik would have mentioned a weekend trip to Seattle were high.

Mike was adamant that Erik wouldn't have gone to Seattle without him _or_ Angela, whose own economically friendly Prius was found in Port Angeles. The police had found two other cars belonging to the abductees yesterday evening; one parked, with the keys still in the ignition, at La Push beach and the other in the parking lot of the library. Though there had been no indication of a struggle, and rumours had been circling that essential items such as cell phones were still plugged into aux cables and dashboard holders.

Beau was uncertain as to whether Angela would have asked him to accompany her to the port town an hour away, but he _did _know that she wouldn't have gone without Jessica — who had reportedly locked herself away in her bedroom at home, understandably distraught. Beau had attempted to get in touch with her and had even visited the Stanley residence an evening prior, but her parents had turned him away.

"Do you think he was going to get a suit for homecoming?" It was a theory that Beau had previously discarded upon learning that he hadn't yet asked Angela to accompany him to the dance — Erik didn't strike Beau as one filled with quiet confidence, but even so, it was a possible lead that the police were looking into. "Do you think he was certain that Angela was going to say yes?"

Beau didn't have much experience in comforting others. He had stayed up until the early hours of the morning each time his mother, Renée had unwittingly killed one of their tropical fish, but that was the pitiful extent of his bedside manner. He had sat and listened to Mike, sharing in his worry for the safety of their friends every evening after school, but each time he attempted to find the right words to say, he came up short.

"We were meant to do that together next weekend, after I asked—" Mike paused briefly as the line shuffled forward a few paces, "somebody. He wouldn't have gone without me, and he was terrified that Angela was going to say no." Beau offered a dry smile and placed a hand on Mike's shoulder, "what if the kidnapper planted his car there so that we would think he was going to Seattle, when really he could have taken Erik in the other direction?"

The school counsellor had advised that some students may concoct their own theories as a way to face the actuality that their fellow peers were missing. Beau had sat through the impromptu Monday morning assembly with a numbness that still hadn't fully dissipated, selfishly occupied with his recent discovery that Edward Cullen was a vampire. Somehow it was a realisation that paled in comparison to the disappearances of his friends, feeling completely mundane in the face of a far darker reality.

"I really couldn't say, Mike, but Charlie is doing everything he can to find them. We need to trust that Angela and Erik, and the others are okay." Beau felt a pang of guilt begin to swell within his abdomen, a result of not truly believing his own words. He had sat through enough cop shows with Charlie to know that the first twenty-four hours were crucial, and it had been one hundred and forty-four.

Mike didn't reply but simply nodded, smiling with a kindness behind his eyes that told Beau he was grateful for the support. The line moved forward once more and the shuffling of rubber soles against the floor were the only sound in an ordinarily bustling hallway.

"My parents are making me work at the store tonight, probably to keep an eye on me. Do you maybe want to—" Mike had nervously scratched the back of his head as he spoke but was interrupted by the whimsical voice of their chemistry teacher, Mrs. Weatherbaum.

"Class, please make your way into the cafeteria in an orderly fashion. Principle Wainwright has an announcement to make." She was a petite woman with strawberry blonde hair, neatly fashioned into a ponytail that burned like a beacon of light beneath the gloomy contrast of Forks' dull sky.

Beau liked her, not for any academic reasoning but because she had personally made herself available for any students that wanted to talk through what had happened. She was genuinely interested in their safety, and that had been evident long before she had spent the previous hour asking the class how they were getting home for the rest of the week — the one student that had no other means but to walk home alone now had a ride home with her at the end of the school day.

"Do you think they've found something?" Mike's ears pricked up like a startled canine, his head snapping up and down the line of students as though somebody could provide him with an answer. Though he wasn't alone in his intrigue as people began quickly shuffling through the double doors of cafeteria, immediately leaping for the first available seats they could find — nobody wanted to be left standing at the back of the room.

Mike had taken a hold of the sleeve of Beau's woollen sweater, expertly navigating the sea of bodies. He managed to reach a table in the far corner of the room that had two seats left — Beau recognised a few of the occupants as faces from his literature class. The natural daylight filtering through the glass ceiling did little to raise the atmosphere, only succeeding in giving the cafeteria a grim glow. He took his seat and placed his backpack on the floor beside his sneakers, offering up a meek smile as Mike rubbed his palms together and struggled to sit still in anticipation of the forthcoming announcement.

After two more classes entered the cafeteria and another lined up against the far wall, students spoke amongst themselves to the symphony of shuffling backpacks until Principle Wainwright entered — he was wearing one of his typical brown suits, with his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed to the right. Charlie and another man Beau didn't recognise flanked him on either side; all of them looked more than a little battered.

It was the first time Beau had seen his father since Sunday, and it was clear from the bruises beneath his eyes and the unusual paleness of his skin that he wasn't sleeping. He had taken a couple of spare shirts with him when he left, but each time they spoke on the telephone, Charlie would always remain pessimistic when it came to returning for a shower and something decent to eat.

Beau stared at his father and waited for some kind sign, a gesture or a facial expression that would pre-emptively confirm that the announcement was good news; but one didn't come. Instead Principle Wainwright demanded silence and cleared his throat, shuffling nervously before cupping his hands in front of him.

"Students, I trust that you are all well and have taken the necessary precautions in light of the current investigation," Beau immediately deduced that there wasn't going to be any good news; it was plainly evident in Wainwright's tone of voice. "As you know, we have taken precautions here at the school to ensure that all of our students are safe during schooling hours," he paused, "but it has recently come to light that there has been another abduction."

Every teenage voice sounded in shock and fear, some screamed, and others bellowed questions that pertained to their continued safety and whether the police were any closer to catching the '_sicko_'. Mike stood and all of the colour drained from his face; his palms raised to caress his temples and he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Students, please, settle down!" Principle Wainwright yelled over the noise and raised his hands, as though the latter would aid him in some way. "Now you do not need to worry, we have police officers lined at the perimeter of the school and we are taking every available measure to ensure that this does not happen again. We have received an envoy from the FBI, who has advised us that the remainder of his taskforce will be arriving this evening to aid with the investigation."

Once the noise had boiled down to an uncomfortable silence, the principle introduced Charlie and the other man beside him before taking a measured step backwards. The man Beau hadn't recognised was Agent Benedict of the FBI — he was lanky in an intimidating sort of way, with translucent skin that stretched tightly over his visible cheekbones and deep-set eyes; he didn't say a single word and continued to scribble notes within his small notebook.

"Hello, some of you may know me as Chief Swan, and I am currently working tirelessly with my department to find and return these missing students home." Beau could see that his father was uncomfortable, he had always had a tumultuous relationship with being the centre of attention. "Your principle is correct, and I can confirm that there has been another kidnapping. While I am unable to provide you with further details, we have informed your parents and they will be coming to collect you shortly."

Beau wanted nothing more than to pull Charlie aside and get answers to the thousands of questions that he had. It was clear that the kidnapping had occurred at or near the school, otherwise they wouldn't have informed parents en masse.

"—and further to the mandatory curfew, Forks high school will be closed until further notice. You are not to attempt to gain entry tomorrow morning and your parents will be informed as and when a decision is made to reopen it." With each passing comment, the cafeteria grew closer to exploding with uninhibited panic; students were already calling their parents to confirm that they were coming. Some questioned who the latest victim had been, but they were abruptly ignored, and the minority crudely cheered and made plans to head down to La Push.

As the impromptu 'assembly' came to an end, everybody got to their feet and separated into their specific social groups before heading to the main reception area. Beau remained next to Mike, who was attempting to get through to his father.

"Hey, Beau," Charlie appeared from the crowd and immediately pulled him into a hug, "how are you doing? I'm sorry I haven't been at home, has Cora been keeping you company?" Cora was a waitress at the Carver Café and had happily agreed to temporarily move into the Swan home while Charlie was holed up at the station; the past few nights, when Beau hadn't been with Mike, were spent playing board games that had half of their pieces missing, awkward microwave dinners and silently watching soap operas.

In hindsight, Cora was a saint for stepping up to help; but neither she or Beau had much interest in making small talk — and they were both comfortable with that.

"Yeah, dad, Cora has been great." It wasn't a lie, and Beau surrendered as Charlie went in for another hug. "You should come home and shower, I know you need to get back to the station, but you won't be any help to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

"I can rest when these kids are found, bud. I wasn't going to say anything, but this last kidnapping happened this morning a mile from the school." Charlie took a step backwards and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly; his eyes were bloodshot, and his breath burned with the potent scent of coffee — it didn't take a detective to realise that it was all he had probably been drinking this week. "I've got to get back. Cora's working a double shift, but when I called Dr. Cullen about the school closing after lunch, he said you're more than welcome to spend the afternoon over at his place. You don't mind, do you?"

Beau felt the familiar pang of guilt accented with embarrassment as his mind immediately went to Edward. A chance to see him again, to gather the courage to ask the questions that had been plaguing his sleep, only to bail at the last moment and silently scold himself — that was beginning to become the routine whenever he found that they were within close proximity.

"Beau?" Charlie had clearly noticed his vacant expression, a worried hand pressing gently on his shoulder, "you sure you're okay? I know I haven't been home, but what with the FBI coming into town, I need to do everything I can." Beau knew that Charlie really did feel bad but truthfully, he had been grateful for the respite. He didn't need to meticulously time trips to the kitchen to avoid small talk or precariously knock on the bathroom door every time it was closed.

"Sorry, dad. Yeah, that's fine. I'll find one of the Cullen's after lunch and ride over." Beau wasn't entirely sure where the Cullen's lived, but that minute detail was pushed to the back of his mind in favour of the uncharacteristic exhilaration; if it was a toss-up between potentially getting lost driving off of the beaten path just outside of town or asking Rosalie Cullen for a lift in her Mercedes convertible, Beau was going with the former.

With a final hug shared between them, Beau bid his Charlie goodbye and turned towards Mike, who was standing worryingly still. "Oh, and dad," he called to his father, who was already partially obscured from sight within the crowd of students, "remember to drink plenty of water and eat something other than snacks from the vending machine, alright?" Charlie turned and gave him a mock salute, smiling before he disappeared entirely.

Mike hadn't moved a muscle. He was standing beside the table they had just been seated at, his eyes wide and left eyebrow twitching. His cell phone was still wedged firmly within his balled fist and with each passing moment, Beau worried that he was going to scream.

"What did your parents say, Mike?" Beau closed the distance between them and placed his hands-on Mike's arms, squeezing gently so as to pull him from whatever reverie he had fallen into. "Mike? Are you okay?" It was then that Beau realised the colour still hadn't returned to Mike's cheeks and pools of sweat were beginning to collect along his brow — he was going to vomit.

Mike took off running faster than Beau's mind could process, his eyes still fixated on where Mike had been a moment ago before finally turning in the direction of the cafeteria exit. His departure had unleashed a new wave of silence across those who had yet to leave for the reception area, and Beau sighed; he wished that he could do more for Mike, even if it was just finding the right words to say.

Beau pressed a clammy hand against his forehead and tackled the natural curve of his brown fringe, smoothing it back into place a little higher. It hadn't yet reached one o'clock in the afternoon and he already felt exhausted; he wouldn't have said no to a long, hot shower and sliding into a pair of the sweatpants he had repurposed as pyjamas.

He contemplated leaving the cafeteria and following after Mike, but a sudden jolt of electricity ignited the fine hairs along the back of his neck. It was a sensation he had associated with a single living, breathing — or not so much — being. Beau turned and his eyes darted from one direction to another, searching for the source of the gaze that he could feel upon him — and then he saw _him_.

Edward Cullen was staring directly at him from the doorway that served as a shortcut towards the parking lot. All it took was a single nod over his shoulder, and Beau leant to retrieve his backpack and began walking obediently towards the first vampire he had ever met.


End file.
